Archive for the Tammy Daniel Category
Lock, Stock and Barrel
In the corner
by the window,
Dad’s hunting rifles
stood with tung-oiled conviction
like soldiers waiting for the call
to arms, for the next big hunt,
another shot at a white-tailed buck.
“Anybody’d be lucky to have ‘em,”
he’d say to just about anyone
within a beer’s reach.
Seems he was right—
the man at the pawn shop
said the same thing
as I handed him